hibernation, hypertension.

By Jasmine Yeng

I am aprils favorite fool, the one left to rot.

through my slumber, i feel it, the distant coldness of that winter.

and the warm welcome of its following spring.

Growing tired is a fickle thing, it shifts gears in our fragile minds. 

it's an indelible experience,  as the autumn leaves fall. 

cycling through it,

          Over and over and over and over again.

O

    v

        e 

           r

       Over and over, it’ll soon be over. 

               O’ to grow tired, as sweet silence grows deafening, corrupting known existences. 

                        …

How tired i’ve now grown, with melancholy fridays.

                  “The voice is deafening, their words, they’ll haunt me.

        the persistence of memories will be stored in a winery.

               Fermenting grapes like wilting flowers.

i think…blossoming spring has overstayed its welcome.

Rationale: mmmm I can't format for my life.